


Diamond under pressure.

by Assasymphonie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot Collection, Writober, explicit - Freeform, sylvix - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-11-08 22:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 19,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20843051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assasymphonie/pseuds/Assasymphonie
Summary: "Their love is like a diamond; faceted, beaming, unique and eternal."A collection of short stories about Sylvain and Felix, with various prompts and ratings, for the Writober challenge.(Rating will go up on the thirt day)





	1. 1. missing moment

1\. missing moment

Another entire year passed and their world shattered like a fine, sacred glass. Everything in Fòdlan would not be the same, not to mention in Faerghus. Too much blood was sinking into the muddy soil, washed away only by the tears of who remained alive and the rain. 

Not snow, this year. Even in the deep north, in Gautier's territory. It was a plain sight, the mountains hidden behind grey clouds like a cape of sorrow, the one Felix was admiring from Sylvain's huge window.  
The swordsman sighed, turning his head back inside where the fireplace was casting a warm, happy orange light against the wall of stones and fabric. An entire year and his world crumbled under his feet again with the exception of the man who was sleeping soundly on the king size bed. Under an heavy blanket, Sylvain Gautier was the only thing that Felix could call secure. The last light in the dimness, the only hope he had to maintain alive at all costs.

Felix's bare feet grazed the wood floor with no sound whatsover, the huge blanket made of the purest white fur as a trail behind him; he could easily slip again in the bed, forget everything that laid over the rain, over the blood-stained hands of his men. He wanted to bath himself in Sylvain's warmth forever, without dukedom or anything else- be damned!  
Instead Felix sat on the bed, staring at Sylvain's face: his hair were a fiery mess against the white pillow, cheeks relaxed and mouth slightly open, without a worry in the world. Felix smiled, fondly, honey in his almond eyes while he pushed his forehead against the other man's chest. Every night for the past four years Felix did not leave Sylvain's side, against every word of his father Rodrigue. He didn't care about Fraldarius' territory, neither about Faerghus or anything else; he cared only about himself and Sylvain, like the world was just the two of them.  
And like every other night, when no one except himself could hear his words, a small pray leaved his chapped lips. But in this night, with a long journey to Garren Mach awaiting them in the morning, Felix wanted more. More from the world and the destiny he tried to challenge with every breath.

"May the Goddess hear me, just this time." He said, voice like a small rasp of some wild animal. "If we'll make out alive from whatever lies in the monastery... I do not want to lose him too. I don't want to lose it." He paused, not hearing the sound of Sylvain waking up. 

"... please, let me live with him. Not just die with him."  
Felix felt a big, callous, warm hand on his head, a whisper and nothing more.

Tomorrow they'll leave to embrace their destiny. From tomorrow Felix will fight.

He'll fight for this.


	2. 2. kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He just wanted to eat the fine steak in his plate and go back to his room, even just to stare at the wall for three hours straight.

2\. kiss

It was dinner time and everyone were sitting at the tables in the refectory, houses mixed up in a bunch of little groups of people. Felix was sandwiched up between Claude -who was, without a doubt, flirting so hard with Dimitri that Felix could have throw up immediately- and Sylvain -who was flirting too, this time with a not so amused Dorothea-. He just wanted to eat the fine steak in his plate and go back to his room, even just to stare at the wall for three hours straight.

“Ya know, your Princeliness, that in Almyra they have a dance perfect for you-“  
Disgusting, Felix thought, while he was trying to put some distance between himself and the Alliance’s leader. He didn’t understand why Claude was bothering with the boar, how he could not see the true face of the Faerghus’ heir like Felix did every damn day. But with doing so, the swordman bumped into Sylvain and, yeah, this was fair more disgusting than Riegan’s antics. At least Dorothea, who has way more brain than most of the table, wasn’t having it in the slightest, but Sylvain was unable to read the mood. As always.

And Felix wanted to rip off his own ears. “Dorothea, dear, this night is so beautiful and so are you” _nauseous_ “and I think that everyone must cherish your beauty and your grace” _pathetic_ “with singing and kisses, but if you want I can do it for you” _make it stop, make it stop, make it stop-_

If someone would asked him what happened, Felix could not answer for the life of him. He just remembered seeing Sylvain lips brushing against not Dorothea’s, but a girl’s ones who happened to pass by them. Bad enough to flirt so openly with a girl who wasn’t clearly interest, but two at the same time without even knowing one of them was too much. He almost fell out of the bench with Claude in the urge of run away from that hall, like a bull with narrowed, bilious eyes, fists tight on his sides at venom on his tongue.

“ENOUGH.” Felix shouted as he stood up, and without knowing how, he regained awareness of himself when cold wind slapped his face. He was on the bridge to the cathedral, alone, with nothing but a pair of pants and his shirt. He was freezing on the outside, but in the inside he could feel the biting pain of rage, disgust and jealousy in a lethal mix.  
His hands curled against the parapet, his breath was coming out in little puffs of hot air while his eyes were wide, staring at basically nothing.

In his head Felix could replay the scene in a loop: Sylvain’s hand, giant, hot and callouses hand, around that girl’s wrist; Sylvain’s neck stretched out to reach her, his muscles twiching under the rosy pale skin; Sylvain’s lips, full and a little chapped by the cold and the wind, pressed against that- “… it hurts.”  
It was just a mumble, barely udible even from himself, now crouching into the ground with the chin on his knees. He felt vulnerable, despicable, his chest tight with pain, warmth and a sheer violence that bubbled up from his belly to his face. “It hurts… Sylvain…”

Felix was sure to be alone on that bridge, for only the Goddess knew how much time. He didn’t care about anything, not even the cold -harsher than before on his skin, and his knuckles began to peel revealing the meat under the skin. He didn’t hear the sound of heavy footsteps approaching his nest, neither the voice which was a background noise. Felix mumbled a “go away” so fleeble it could be lost in the winter wind. Just when someone kneeled before his wretched form he dared to raise his eyes, just to be lost again.  
It was Sylvain, that giant idiotic redhead, who was tendering his hands with lips curled down. He pressed those lips, be damned forever, against his abused knuckles, in a ghost of a kiss. Light as a feather, heavy as a ston  
e.  
“… I’m sorry.” He began, not daring to meet Felix’s eyes. “I didn’t mean that. But you were- I was-“ Felix interrupted him, pressing his hand against those lips. He didn’t want his sorry words. That was enough, maybe, to begin to heal countless wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second prompt took a slightly angst's road and im so sorry


	3. 3. hair pulling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain loves Felix’s hair. They’re such an incredible shade of indigo, sometimes more blue and sometimes almost black, like the shifting ink of the most precious manuscripts in Garren Mach’s library.

3\. hair pulling

Sylvain loves Felix’s hair. They’re such an incredible shade of indigo, sometimes more blue and sometimes almost black, like the shifting ink of the most precious manuscripts in Garren Mach’s library. They’re soft and smooth too, so smooth they’re like water, flowy and cold. And the thing Sylvain loves the most about his lover’s hair is to pull them, twist them in his fist feeling the resistance from his scalp; it gaves him such a power he never thought that it exists.

When they’re in bed together, sheets crumpling under their weight, Sylvain simply pulls Felix’s hair (they’re so long now, much longer than before) to strip the swordsman of his shame, his temperament, earning a loud moan as a reward. He loves expecially when Felix’s back is facing him, the latter on his four and his head buried into the pillow; all he can do is to extend an hand -a big, callous, strong hand that can throw a spear easily- and grab those inky locks and pull. Pull his face away from the pillow, seeing his back arching at an impossible angle while he’s trusting so hard into him… just enough to see tears spilling from Felix’s eyes. 

And he knows Felix likes it too, because those moans would never escape his mouth without a very good reason. He can see that in how Felix’s mouth is open to catch hair, in how his face and even is neck are so red that it would be almost a burn, in how he clenches his muscles around Sylvain so tight, impossibly tight.

Felix loves Sylvain’s hair. They’re a unique shade of red, bright like lava in the Ailell, so realistic that you can think of burning yourself if you touch them directly. They’re always everywhere in his sight, locks soft as feathers that can bounce in their position everytime; on his pillow they looks almost unreal, like a flame (the same that burns inside Felix’s chest everytime he sees Sylvain on /his/ pillow, and he’s not going to address this sensation).

The best thing about Sylvain’s hair, to be honest, is how good they feel inside Felix’s hand. He really likes to pull them far from himself, just to have Sylvain’s bare neck at his disposal; expecially when Sylvain is in his lap, riding him like he does with his mount every single day, his big thights enclosing the smaller Felix’s ones and the swordsman dick buried inside him, almost lost in the same heat he can feel from his hair. And then, pulling and trusting, Felix loves to bite his lover’s neck at his please. Pulling his hair away is the best way to do so, forcing the knight to whine hopelessy while he’s biting his Adam apple so roughly that for sure the next day a bruise will show up.  
And, for the Goddess, Felix loves the idea, the simple gesture of having those flaming hair between his skinny and strong fingers, playing Sylvain’s scalp like one of his swords.  
And everytime Sylvain cames Felix quickly pulls a lot rougher, leading his orgasm with chocked moans.


	4. 4. champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know sweetheart, i really would like some wine… and tomorrow is my birthday…”

4\. champagne

Ridiculous. 

This is the only word that popped in Felix’s mind while he was walking down the streets off from their shared apartment, at 11 o’clock in the evening to the local supermarket -which is, by far, the only supermarket that remains open all day and all night- in a pair of skinny black leggins, a giant t-shirt stolen from Sylvain’s closet and slippers. The shirt had some print on it, but with the time it faded in a blend of grey and blue. It was someting from their college’s days in Garreg March University for sure, but the cotton felt nice even still so Felix didn’t see the point of throwing it away. It was actually his pijama and he was chilling in it, until Sylvain came up with a ridiculous idea.

“You know sweetheart, i really would like some wine… and tomorrow is my birthday…”  
Yeah, his birthday. The most special day for Sylvain’s idiotic mind, that will start from the morning with a kiss from a very flustered Felix, will continue with a party at their house with everyone -and a glass pot will surely be broke by a swing of Dimitri’s arm, of course, this was why they couldn’t have nice things in their house anymore-, and a gift from Felix. A Playstation, what else, with two games and a very happy sound from the birthday boy and a makeout session in the istant Dedue would close the door.

It will be a very busy day, so Felix was fairly happy to be curled up on the sofa, against Sylvain’s body watching some shitty reality show about tattooing. Keyword: was. 

The much cooler air from the supermarket hit him like a punch in the guts. He wasn’t expecting so much people in the shop, so he tried to avoid basically everyone running towards the wine’s aisle to grab the first bottle that popped in front of him. He didn’t give a real shit about Sylvain’s wanting right now, not so much at least, when he saw it.

A beautiful, skinny, expensive bottle of the finest champagne from France. He barely eyed it, wondering if… if maybe he could be just a little nice in time for Sylvain’s birthday. No one of their friends could have wondered how much Felix was a romantic type, he was just different from Sylvain. He did things undercover, without telling everyone, but it was a everyday gesture of affection.

He exited the supermarket forty minutes later and that expensive bottle in his hands, covered by a plastic bag. Sylvain’s reaction was, indeed, one of a kind. He just asked for wine not expecting to be heard at all, and not alone Felix went out without saying a word, but he came back with the finest champagne ever, bringing it in two glasses directly in bed.

And while Sylvain was smiling like an idiot and sipping his money, Felix couldn’t care less about the glass in his hand. He just stared at the redhead in awe, waiting for the right moment. One, two, three… and midnight was.

“… Sylvain.” The way he said that name was chilling, and not really in a good way. He just leaned towards the redhead, toasting casually their glass together.   
“Thank you for being born.”


	5. 5. ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe was adamant about this: in the greenhouse there was a ghost. And not the cute kind of ghost, not at all!

5\. ghost

Ashe was adamant about this: in the greenhouse there was a ghost. And not the cute kind of ghost, not at all! 

“I told you! In the night, every night, not matter if the weather is good or bad, you can hear sounds! Scary sounds like pained moans… it must be suffering…” He was very concitated while talking, using his fork like a magic wand to impress his listeners. Lysithea, Annette and Mercedes, eyes widened, gasped at the imitation that followed Ashe’s words; they were making a big fuss at the table, near a very annoyed Felix who poked at his steak like it was a demonic beast of some sort.

“Ashe, can I enjoy this fucking meal without hearing you blabbering about nosense?” He spat, earning an elbow in his side by Sylvain. Yeah, whatever, he didn’t mean to be so rough since Ashe basically bowed his head under the table saying ‘im so sorry’ he could not even face Felix in the eyes. The swordsman scoffed, tapping Ashe’s shoulder with his free hand. He could feel Sylvain’s eyes bore an hole in his skull.

“… i didn’t mean it.” The hole went deeper.

“You’re an idiot, now everyone will come to check in the greenhouse, and this is just because you’re insatiable and cannot hold it in your pants until my room!” The gretting sound of Felix’s teeth was loud enough to be heard from behind the closed door of his room, as well as Sylvain’s laugh.

“Come on Felix, all of them know that Ashe loves ghost stories and no one really wants to go there in the middle of the night, we’re safe.”   
Safe is not really the right word for this. They started making out in the greenhouse almost by accident: after an intense late training they were caught in surprise by an heavy rain, and ran in the nearest place to not to be wet to the bone.  
It became a sort of habit, a dirty little secret, with Felix pinned on the floor behind a giant three of some sort, invisible from the glass door. But they forgot that everything here is made of glass, even if it was dirty and not seethrought anymore. Eventually someone heard them, and of course it has to be Ashe. Because of this Felix basically simmered, struggling between punching Sylvain in the face or killing him and bury his stupid corpse in that damn greenhouse.

“And, if I have to be completely honest…” Sylvain paused, his body went closer to Felix’s one like they were some kind of magnets. Felix felt himself lacking words all of the sudden, following Sylvain’s lips parting slightly and his tounge sticking out just a little bit. “… that thing kinda turned me on. Even now.”

The sound of a painful scream went right in Dimitri’s heart, who sat at his desk reviewing papers. He broke his quill (damn it, that one was Claude’s gift) and almost went to check on Sylvain but the next sound freezed him in place with a hand on his doorknob.

“… maybe is that ghost!”


	6. 6. dirty talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain stared at Felix’s form like a madman, trying to process the words the other whispered in his ear just two seconds ago.

6\. dirty talk

He couldn’t be serious. Sylvain stared at Felix’s form like a madman, trying to process the words the other whispered in his ear just two seconds ago.   
He could still feel the thrilling sensation under his skin, the hot coil in his lower abdomen, the erection constricred in his undergarments. They stood like that on Sylvain’s bed in the cold of the monastery (they were so few, compared to their school days), Felix with his hair left down onto his shoulders; Sylvain’s favourite look on Felix, if he must be real.  
Okay, well, maybe this was because they drank that evening; a whole lot to be fair, brought by Caspar as a token of victory and that was a very fine and strong liquor. He has an high tolerance for sure, but when he saw Felix gobbled down an entire glass of that thing he should have been at least disturbed. Instead he took advantage of that, like the fool he was, and tried to make Felix like butter in his hands. 

It didn’t work out at all.

“Sylvain…” Felix’s voice was husky against his bare neck, his theet nipping not so gently at the tender skin at the base. That was so odd… “You’ll be a good boy for me tonight?”   
Normally it would be Sylvain to say something like that, to obtain maybe a glare or an hint of blush. Because of this, his reactions were amplified; no one ever bothered to say those things to him, to worship him for real. His muscles tensed under his skin, his hands run quickly to the sheets beneath. He nodded tho, shakily.  
He could feel the grin on the other’s lips as well as Felix’s tapered fingers tracing a pattern of nonsense on his abs, grazing the red trail of hair beneath his belly button. He could feel his satisfation to hold so much power on him.

“You’ll be open for me…? Until your thighs will burn…?” Sylvain could smell the very strong alcohol’s scent in Felix’s breath, now so close to his ear that it must be a dream. This was basically ripped off from Sylvain’s private fantasies’ book, he thought while he opened his legs as told, feeling the infamous burning sensation in his upper muscles. It was… good enough? “Felix I-“

“I can bet you would like if I bite into those thighs right? Barely leaving any room to your skin…” Now, that was dangerous. Sylvain’s breath quickened as well as his heart, his hips bucking slightly in the air at basically nothing. What in the world was happening? How some words did reduce him like that in a matter of seconds? In the meantime Felix chuckled, his fingers toying with Sylvain’s hips without touching his trobbing erection. The war didn’t scare Sylvain like Felix did in that moment.   
Ever.   
A stain of precum formed at the front of his unders without Sylvain could do anything about that, frozed in place from some force he couldn’t even recognize.  
“… mmh you like that?”

Oh no.  
“You like when I talk to you like that?” The only thing left to do is to nod, his eyes shutted as well as his muscles while bucking his hips harder than before. Felix was smiling tho, his cheek right next to his, feline eyes fixed on the mess that Sylvain was becoming. The swordsman’s fingers were on Sylvain’s thighs now, leaving red strokes with his nails and piercing the muscles, pining him right in place.

“You’re such a mess, maybe you deserve to be left like that-“ Sylvain almost choked, sweat dribbled down his temples and his hair, trembling like he’s on the effect of some kind of fever. “P-Please… not…” That was his voice? So pleading, so high, so miserable? But for sure Felix liked that at the point he made a low moan, before biting into Sylvain’s neck, this time in a very painful way. 

“Then be the filhty you are and come.”


	7. 7. hot bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “… ehy, Felix.” Oh, yeah, sure: Sylvain could not remain silent for the life of his.

7\. hot bath

That day was really, really awful for Felix and everyone else. They arrived at the dawn in the proximity of Garren Mach, after an entire night of riding a horse without sleep or even food. Ingrid, Sylvain and himself arrived together, just in time to kill some bandits with… no one else beside their professor, alive!, and Dimitri who is beyond salvation, in Felix’s opinion.   
And the day went on just as hard as the night, with the reorganazing of the monastery which is in ruin at his best: the rooms were an high mess, expecially the ones at the first floor; the church was partially destroyed by the events from five years ago; the baths needed new pipes for the water. The only things saved from destruction and vandalism were the greenhouse and the refectory, at least.

They worked without pauses, everyone of them, and just at the hell o’clock in the evening Felix went to the renewed baths. He needed to be clean from the journey’s dust, the blood of the battle and the sweat of physical labor; for sure he stank like a horse, or worse.   
He didn’t hoped that the baths would be free of people, so he just sighed when he saw a familiar redhead already soked in.

“Oi.” Felix announced himself while he was undressing, piling the clothes in a nest on the tiles. He knew that he couldn’t put them on his body again before wash them, so they could stay like the lump they were. With an hint of blush on his cheeks he slipped near Sylvain’s form, who greeted him with a tired smile. A new look on his face, Felix might say.

“Ehy… relax time for you too? Dedue left just two minutes ago.” The damp air curled Sylvain’s hair in such a unique way, making them almost wet but not at the point where they flat on his head. His skin was basically glowing -it always was pale, yes, but not pale as Felix’s, and because of the sun small freckles appeared on his broad shoulders- and Felix almost stared. He didn’t answer, he just slipped a little bit more into the hot water letting his sore muscles melt into the heat.

“… ehy, Felix.” Oh, yeah, sure: Sylvain could not remain silent for the life of his. He almost forgot that after an entire year spent fighting for the dukedom and his father. He glared at Sylvain, noticing that at the nape of his neck the hair were a little bit longer. Just the tinyest bit, but- “Yeah?”

“I missed you.”  
That was really unexpected but mutual, that was for sure. He didn’t answer this time either, just moved himself a little bit closer to Sylvain.   
Water sloshed when their knees touched, air moved when Felix rested his head on Sylvain’s shoulder. Maybe he was just tired or weak to the hot, maybe he just needed this. In that gigantic tub, inside the skeleton of a church, Sylvain and himself. Just like the old times, just like every day of their lives until five years ago.

“… I missed us.” Felix said, and at that Sylvain chuckled.


	8. 8. biting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just one simple little thing was definible a “vice”, even if no one except a person knew about it; he loved biting Sylvain’s freckled shoulders.

8\. biting

Felix didn’t have any vices: he didn’t drink as much as the others, he didn’t indulge in food too much, he didn’t sleep in or have some kind of weird habit or interest, beside swords and training and that thing definitely was not a vice. Just one simple little thing was definible a “vice”, even if no one except a person knew about it; he loved biting Sylvain’s freckled shoulders.

“Ow…” a really loud moan escaped from Sylvain’s parted lips, his legs interwined with Felix’s ones and their hips basically melting into each other.   
In the heat of the moment, while they were alone in their shared room (it was not an usual thing, but in that particular mission Dimitri was in the same room with the Professor and Annette with Mercedes, so there was no doubt that they would share a room), the door shutted behind them and their clothes scattered all over the wooden floor, Felix bited into the soft skin of the base of Sylvain’s neck.

That moan were regarded by an humming sound, Felix’s mouth running over his skin to bite just a little bit on the right, towards the hardness of his shoulder’s muscle. They didn’t shower before coming into the inn, so Felix could smell sweath, arousal, that crisp snowy scent which was so Sylvain that he moaned, just a little bit.   
The skin was kinda dry and hard, but his slightly pointed teeth pierced into it like it was butter.

A mark of ownership for sure, a gesture of primal possession so typical of Felix that Sylvain laughed between his pants, bringing an hand to sink into those indigo locks, grabbing them, encorauging their owner to go deeper, to mark in into his very soul.   
And Felix obliged.   
The taste of blood became intense on his tongue as well as pleasure coiling into his heart and down, into his lower parts; with a sigh Felix parted only to have some space to admire his work. Two crescent moons, deep and red and kinda bloody, with four way deeper wounds because of his sharp canines. Felix smirked. 

“They’re quite good this time.” He was kinda proud of it, Sylvain thought while he flinched when Felix started lapping at those marks like a giant cat or, maybe, like a small wolf. So he nodded briefly, trying to regain a little bit of breath before Felix decided to move lower on his body. He has already a lot of scars on his own, and Felix was determinated to leave as many with his teeth, his nails and everything he has.   
“I just want to- eat you.“ The swordsman paused, ghosting his breath against the right pectoral of his lover. Sylvain remained silent, searching for his eyes or his red cheecks or his flushed and bloody lips; that was bold even for Felix.  
“… well, I have two shoulders to begin with.”

Sylvain didin’t expect to hear Felix’s roar.


	9. 9. flower shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wearing his usual scowl, Felix entered the shop and was basically assaulted by a ton of different smells.

9\. flower shop

_“Felix, come on! I know you hate him but you must at least buy some flowers for Dimitri. Is his wedding!” _

Ingrid’s voice was still in his ears while he stomped out from his house -she was visiting Glenn and making everything so damn difficult- in a Metallica sweater, distressed black jeans and some random boots founded in the corridor. Maybe they were Glenn’s, since they were a little too big for him, his hair up in a messy ponytail and his phone and credit card buried into the pocket.

Yeah, Dimitri’s wedding with an idiot named Claude, that weekend. He forgot about it on purpose, hoping that his presence would blend into a bush or something. And then Ingrid happened, and fucking then he was out going to the nearest flower shop.  
It opened just a month ago or so and he never had the chance to stop by it, he didn’t have someone to give flowers to in the first place. The outside was… strangely pleasing? Some white furniture into the large windows, a lot of dark green leaves to decore and a little bit of orange and red, made with flowers that Felix didn’t know. 

Wearing his usual scowl, Felix entered the shop and was basically assaulted by a ton of different smells; it was like a concert, with fresh tones from the right corner, a deep and cozy smell right here, an earthy and fall-like something on his back. He stand right in the middle of it, eyes half-closed, strangerly affected by everything that he didn’t notice the smiling man on the other side of the counter.

“Ehy? Hello? Is everyone here?”  
A voice like the smell of tulips, fresh and yet so familiar, interrupted his trance and almost threw him out of balance. His eyes, now vigilant again, stopped on a young man with bright red hair, eyes like dripping honey reached by the smile of his. He was the Sun, while Felix was… basically a bat.

“… yeah. I need- flowers.”  
Oh yes, Fraldarius. What a bold move, flowers in a flower shop! That idiot line was regarded by a flashy smile and an entire body too much near his own. That stranger was really tall, almost taller than Glenn, with broad shoulders and a very small waist, Felix noticed.  
“Well, you came to the right place! Are they for some lovely lady?” Felix huffed, crossing his arms on his chest and making the sickiest expression ever. “Not at all. A… friend of mine will got married this weekend. I need flowers.”

Maybe he just imagined the faint satisfation in the stranger’s eyes, maybe he didn’t think about how close they were until five seconds ago. Now the man was dancing around the pots, humming some tune while he was picking flowers of all colours.  
Almost twenty minutes passed and all Felix did was staring at the other’s back, learning something between that blabbering. His name was Sylvain, he was some years older than him, and he opened the shop to prove something to his father. He was single, thank Goddess, and then…

“Here you go! A gorgeous boquet for a surely gorgeous couple! Do you want some explanations?” He was holding the boquet and also a single flower in the other hand. Felix nodded tho, letting his credit card hang between his fingers.  
“We have snowdrops, for a new wonderful life together; callas, the flower of wedding itself I might say; some lilies of course and sancarlinis!”  
Felix knew maybe one of two of those flowers, so he nodded and waved an hand in the air. “I do not know a thing about flowers, they’re pretty and that’s for sure, like that one.” He paused, eyeing that single flower. Sylvain smiled, with a slight pink dust on his cheeks, holding the said flower.  
“Do you know what this is?” He asked, gifting it to Felix.

Felix, who discovered on his phone two minutes after that the flower was an ibiscus, the flower of the love at first sight.


	10. 10. blindfold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sylvain… I’m not so sure about it.” Felix mumbled, shifting not so comfortably over the crumped sheets.

10\. blindfold

“Sylvain… I’m not so sure about it.” Felix mumbled, shifting not so comfortably over the crumped sheets.   
He was almost entirely naked except for his boxers, and he could feel the other’s big hands on his sides, tickling the skin so lightly… that was a new sensation for Felix. To be honest, everything in that situation was new to him, with a silk piece of clothing knotted behind his head, covering his eyes completely.

That was a Sylvain’s idea, of course, to spice things up since they were together since the first day of high school basically. They really tried everything almost, but deprive Felix of his sight was the first thing out of the box they ever at least thought about. 

He loved to see Sylvain when they fuck, let’s be real; staring at those red locks, wide shoulders and strong neck, watching him engulfing his cock entirely or the movements of his abs while- but in that moment everything was black.  
He didn’t really like not be able to see what was going on, to be fair. Sylvain in full control scared him just a little bit, or maybe that thrill on his back was arousal? He could hear the other’s faint laugh tho, distant and dangerously close to his hipbone.   
“Felix, you look so good like this you know? I’ve never seen you so red.”

Those words were followed by the scrap of teeth on the bone itself and the sensation of fabric pulled away, maybe ripped off, Felix didn’t know. The only thing he knew for sure was Sylvain’s breath against his newly free erection and a gasp filled his lips, before he could put his arm over them.   
That.   
That was really dangerous. It was like everything was amplified at most and every single nerve on his body was screaming. His hands clenched the sheet beneath and with that he knew he was fucked. In both ways.

When Sylvain decided to lick the entire lenght of his boyfriend, the latter almost chocked on his own breath. Stars were all over the place before his eyes, his lips parted and the arm almost forgotten because he screamed his lungs off.   
That was embarassing, Felix wanted to die or to kill Sylvain on the spot and he would be successful if the redhead didn’t decide to swallow him whole in a matter of seconds. The tip hit the back of Sylvain’s throat and that, alone, was enough to send Felix over the edge.   
He lasted about two minutes or even less, coming with his hips up in the air, his cock buried into Sylvain’s mouth, right in his throat. If his eyes were free, he could have seen Sylvain’s smug smile, red cheeks and triumphant honey eyes, with a smear of come coming out of the corner of his lips.   
All he could hear was the obscene pop that set himself free, and the hoarse laugh of the love of his fucking life.  
“I knew you would like it.”

The laugh was even more deep when Felix flipped him off with a shaky finger.


	11. 11. wall sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The training ground was empty at that hour, an impossible evening hour.

11\. wall sex

The training ground was empty at that hour, an impossible evening hour with already stars in the sky and owl crying their lungs on the trees and all over the monastery.   
No one should’ve been around, it was way past the “curfew” imposed by the Professor (curfew that anyone respected in the slightest, Professor first of them all), and instead the torches in the grounds were still vibrant and were still burning happily, the only audience at something prohibited and yet so natural.

“S-Sylvain---!” Felix’s fingers grabbed a fistful of the other’s shirt, the school jacket already forgotten on the dusty ground; he, with his vest and shirt opened wide on his chest, was breathing shakily while the redhead mouthed the tender part of his neck, at the base right into the junction between it and his collarbone. That was… dangerous at best.  
Everyone could walk in at every second and they were not being quiet enough, in Felix’s opinion, while he was pinned against a wall near the rack of spears, his legs opened and Sylvain’s right knee right between them. Felix hissed at the contact, almost ripping Sylvain’s shirt as a punishment.

“This is- we can’t here- Sylvain s- _AH!_”  
He didn’t stop at all. 

With a smirk against the other’s skin, Sylvain was determined to make a mess of Felix in his favourite place. His hands were already at his pants, unfastening the unfairly complicated belt with metallic sounds into the silence of the training field. Yes, that was dangerous, and Sylvain liked it.   
“We can’t, you’re right Fe, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t.” His tone was playful, his mouth was already on Felix’s right nipple, his right hand under the first layer of clothing, right on Felix’s -still protected tho- erection. With a rush of raw pleasure, Sylvain could feel Felix’s body shiver from that. Exactly what he wanted.

“Besides…”   
Sylvain’s voice was like honey in that moment, his left hand pinning Felix against the wall placing itself at the side of the other’s head. “I want you to train here and remember how badly I ravished you tonight. I think it’s a funny experience, you know?”   
Felix really wanted to say something, to slap that beautiful face, to scream how fool he was, but the twist of Sylvain’s wrist to get right under the last clothing item was enough to knock out the breath from his lungs. Goddess, he hated him so much.   
Felix hitted slightly witht he back of his head the wall made of stone, gripping now at the mortar between the stones themselves so hard it became dust under his fingernails.

“That’s not- funny- _oh fuck Sylvain fuck-_“  
That infamous hand was really all over the place, smearing Felix’s unders with his own precum, palming him without thinking much at how rude he was. Because Sylvain knew Felix liked it when he was rough on him, that was for sure.   
He lapped the swordsman’s parted lips, gripping at his throbbing erection, drinking the sight of Felix rapidly undoing himself beneath him, trapped between Sylvain’s much taller body and the wall. The redhead liked maybe a little too much having Felix literally at his service, pleading and shivering with every touch, every nip. 

With a situation like that, Sylvain decided for his own good to run his mouth across Felix’s pecs, abs, just to nip at his hip, ghosting his breath over the partially clothed erection. He lapped over the fabric right on the wet stain, right at the tip while his hand was moving a little bit lower with nervous and rapid strokes.

That time Felix’s head hitted the wall with much more strenght; the result was a lot of blood, screams of pain and rage, punching noises and a run to Manuela’s room with Felix in Sylvain’s arms, very embarassing erections clearly visible and two days of rest.

_“I told you that was a bad idea, you fucking idiot.”_


	12. 12. date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Annette, are you sure? It’s not like I don’t trust you but this thing it’s not too much? It’s just-“

12\. date

“Annette, are you sure? It’s not like I don’t trust you but this thing it’s not too much? It’s just-“

_“Felix, don’t make me angry!! I told you, high neck shirts look hella good on you! When I fall for you years ago you were wearing one of those so you better believe me.”_

Felix could see, even via Skype, Annette’s rosy cheeks puffing out in an adorable manner and he could not stop himself from chuckling, hidden by the shirt he was showing to the computer. His best female friend -and ex kinda of a girlfriend, even if they were both twelve and basically bushes with feet- was the only one he could trust in fashion matters.   
And that setup was strange even for them, just because Annette was out of the town to spend some time with her father, retired in a cute house in the countryside: Felix’s personal computer was on the highest piece of forniture in his room, his closet busted open and a bunch of pants, shirts and whatever were scattered all over the place. In that moment he was wearing black thight pants and he was shirtless, with two different kind of teal clothes in each hand.   
A lost cause.   
And all of that because he has a fucking date with the fucking loser he was fucking fooling around with for almost two years and a half.

“We’re going to dinner Annette, not in a love hotel. I don’t need to be sexy or some kind of shit.” Even so, he took Annette’s hint and started to put the most light teal one, smoothing it with his hands and giving up about his hair. He will fix them. Somehow.   
“Is this okay, miss fashion designer?” He grinned, ready for a scream.  
_“You’re horrible as always. I don’t really understand why Sylvain asked you out or kissed you, maybe he’s blind or something. By the way, let the hair down mr swordsman, you’re not going to a competition.”_

Yeah, he didn’t understand either. It was… two days ago, Sylvain just walked him home after a small competition (won by Felix, of course). That was a very crisp evening for sure, and they were the only people on the small street… and everything happened so fast.   
Right before his door Sylvain grabbed him by the shoulder and all Felix could understand was the sensation of the other’s lips against his own and a whisper: _do you… want to go out with me? In a date kinda of going out, I mean._

That was the fastest yes he ever said, before storming into the house like a madman.

“… yeah, I don’t understand either. But maybe…” Against Annette, he put his hair in half of a ponytail, leaving the inked strands free on the shoulders but not on his face, with the exception of his kinda messy bangs.   
“No, I don’t know. I’m just-“ His blabbering was interrupted by the sheer force of his doorbell and Glenn’s voice calling up downstairs. He could hear laughs from his father too in the studio, but he decided to ignore him for his liver’s health.   
“Oh, uhm, he’s here-“ He was being nervous? Maybe because Glenn opened the fucking door and he catched an amused _Sylvain you look so good, you sure you want my brother? I’m free now_, the asshole.

_“Ahah! Go go lovebird, I was going to go too to pick up Mercie at the station, I dont’ want to rescue her somewhere in the forest- Remember to send me a picture!”_  
Felix just nodded, waving towards the computer and grabbing at the same time his trench coat. He ran down the stairs two by two, standing in a matter of seconds between his brother and Sylvain. Without eye contact with both of them, he almost pushed the redhead outside, closing the door with his foot.

The next message Annette received from Felix was a photo, where he was kissing the cheek of a very flustered and happy Sylvain while they were in bed, and a message.

_You were right about the shirt._


	13. 13. flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ingrid was sure about it: that scene was before her eyes a ton of times in the past, and nothing changed.

13\. flashback

Ingrid was sure about it: that scene was before her eyes a ton of times in the past, and nothing changed. All the four of them were out on the grass of Garren Mach, in a quiet and warm day of spring with some food stolen from the refectory that morning splayed out on plates and fabric; Dimitri was asleep with his head on her lap (Ingrid didn’t mind it at all: it was the first time in months that she saw Dimitri so peaceful), his long limbs all over the place, and at some distance Sylvain and Felix were talking.

Ingrid could feel the smile on her face, watching them quarreling, Felix with his hair out of the usual bun and Sylvain with a wide, happy smile on his lips. It was like years ago, in the Faerghus summer, at the Fraldarius estate.

_They escaped Glenn and Rodrigue, just to run into the grass behind the cold, steel colored castle, without a worry in their minds and laughs on their lips. They played a lot, all together, climbing up on trees, picking some berries for a break, fooling around with some stray cats.  
The sun was shining bright that day, and finally right before lunch they decided to take a break; Dimitri basically knocked himself out on the grass and Felix and Sylvain were laughing at him, always together, always near each other, always hand in hand._

The scene reminded Ingrid so much of their time together. They’re grown since the years, they had losses and pain, they shed tears to one another, their hearts were rougher now. Felix’s eyes were colder somehow, Sylvain’s smile not always reached his features well, Dimitri was not peaceful and innocent anymore and Ingrid herself was all edges and sharp words.

Their relationships grown too.  
Dimitri was day by day more distant, much more alone that before; she was trying to be the glue to each other, to stick with them no matter what, and by doing that she noticed that something else had change. Or maybe not so much.  
Even in that day, Felix’s and Sylvain’s hand were connected. Not like they did as children, for not letting Felix lost or for bring Sylvain with them. They were just brushing, not a real contact but much more intimate, not refleting the bickering at all.

Ingrid smiled wider, brushing with one hand Dimitri’s bangs away from his face. Yeah, they changed a lot, they suffered a lot. But maybe, just maybe, from those ashes something will grow again. And then, when she saw Felix’s thumb tracing circles on Sylvain’s hand…

_“I told Glenn I want to marry you when I’ll grow up!!”_  
_“Ah, and you think I will wait for you Fe?”_  
_“Sylvain, let him be-“_  
_“No Ingrid, I know I’m right! He can not wait for me, but I will marry him one day, just watch us!”_


	14. 14. soulmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can ever change that.

14\. soulmate

_What’s a soulmate?_

Felix never believed in love. He saw his father and his mother, married because of noble titles and Crests, and he could not recall love in their words. He saw his brother Glenn, who could’ve loved Ingrid in the future until the fate decided otherwise. No one taught him how love works and its forms.

_It’s like a best friend but more._

At age six he met Sylvain. The boy was three years older than him and for Felix he was the entire world he never had. He always called him bestfriend but growing up that word didn’t seem the right fit, like a too lose pair of pants.

_It’s the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else._

Sylvain always knew what Felix was thinking. Sometimes it was almost scary, even without seeing his eyes Sylvain could tell what he was going to say, or do, or whatever.  
At the same time Sylvain knew all of the most horrific fears of Felix; being left alone by everyone, not being able to protect, to save, to secure, wearing his heart on his sleeve. And for every single one of them, the redhead always had some kind of solution or shield. That thing alone was incredible but, for them, just natural.

_It’s someone who makes you a better person.  
Actually, they don’t make you a better person, you do that yourself, because they inspire you._

Felix knew that, throught the years, he became a very cold, distant kinda of a man. He always kept everyone and everything at armlenght, just for not be wounded again. But with Sylvain, sometimes, he could still remember how to be gentle, how to be kind, just to see him smile.  
Like the time Felix took a bunch of stray kittens to his lap without thinking, just because Sylvain was right next to him with a purring little thing in his hands, watching Felix being the man he always knew he was.

_A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever._

Felix couldn’t even think about a life without Sylvain. Yes, he always complained about him, about his behaviour, but in reality Sylvain is just like his very soul. He could be on the other side of the world and still feel those warm, big hands on his shoulders. 

_It’s the person who knew you and accepted you, believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would._

In his life a lot of people really didn’t accept him for who he was. His father never accepted his hate for chivarly and the dukedom, his lack of desire for women. His brother never accepted his presence fully, fair too old to be around a child again. Dimitri didn’t accept him when Glenn died and everything was dark, was painful and lonely.  
The only person who accepted him every single time was Sylvain, even when Felix curled up on him with blood on his wrists, blood on the dagger, and no more tears in his eyes.

_And no matter what happens you will always love them._

After Miklan, Sylvain was in a very dark place. The same place where Felix went when Glenn died. He pushed everyone away, he chased skirts a lot more than usual. And even when he literally pushed Felix, he screamed against Felix’s face, the latter was adamant.  
His love didin’t falter even when he discovered white wounds on the other’s arms. He didn’t give up in fear. He trusted him. He loved him. And he told him so, many times, until Felix himself was on his knees, after Enbarr, with a ring in his hand.

_Nothing can ever change that._


	15. 15. 1000k

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were sorrounded by enemies no matter where their eyes wandered.

15\. 1000k

They were sorrounded by enemies no matter where their eyes wandered. A lot of armored soldiers with great axes, horsemen and only the Goddess knew how many foot soldiers ready to burst their bodies open for the glory of whatever Edelgard promised to them.  
Ingrid was flying over them trying to distract the mages and Dedue is nowhere to be found; a smart ambush with a fucking army, nice. In the middle of that hell they were standing back to back: Byleth, Dimitri and Felix himself. Thanks to their professor Sylvain wasn’t out of Garreg Mach (because of injuries, but the latter is very stupid and also very brave and there was a thin line between the two concepts), but Felix wasn’t feel right.  
In his guts it was clear that the situation offered very little escape routes, mainly because Dimitri already had an arrow into his good shoulder.

Goddammit.

“Boar, Professor, duck your heads down!” With a metallic sound his sword dropped on the hard and bloody soil; Felix’s right arm just moved quickly towards the sky, his eyes closed while he was earing a muffed thunder above his head.  
It was starting.

Fraldarius’ family was well known for their magic too, other than the ability to wield basically every weapon; while Rodrigue was specialized in White magic, Felix choose a much more blasting one: the Thunder magic, with one of the most powerful Thoron in all Faerghus. Only one other time Felix dared to use Thoron in battle, just because the rebound on his body is very heavy and he really really didn’t like it, but in that situation… well, it was a real life-or-death kinda of a thing.

Before their enemies a stormy, steely cloud was forming and the air was full of static force; Dimitri could feel his hair sticking up, while he was shielding Byleth from all of that force of nature.  
“Felix don’t- the rebound-“  
“I fucking KNOW IT.” Felix yelled almost, between rage and awareness of what he was going to do to his body.  
He really was happy that Sylvain wasn’t with them; for once, Felix could feel strangerly safe. And then, in a flash of pure light, everything was reduced to ashes. The Thoron had the power of thousands of lightning bolts and the people who were too much near Felix weren’t even ashes anymore.  
Almost ten metres of space were annihilated, giving them enough time to eventually escape. That was horrifing indeed, but the worst part was the smell. Byleth shook Dimitri off to himself to run towards Felix, still on his feet, because the smell were all around the swordsman, emanated by his right arm.

It was burned to the bones.

For an entire week Felix remained unconscious; for an entire week, Sylvain didn’t leave his side, even to wash himself or to eat. When the swordsman returned to Garreg Mach on Ingrid’s pegasus, barely alive and barely with two arms, Sylvain almost lost himself. He was screaming, he was threatening both Byleth and Dimitri, he was cursing the Goddess in every shape or form; Dedue had to physically restrain him while Felix was sleeping into the infirmary under almost three healing spells without a pause. Manuela almost passed out.

In that moment tho, he was conscious, his eyes fixated on Syilvain’s ones. Under them, almost black circles and a river of tears. He almost was feeling sorry for him.  
“You look awful.” At those words Sylvain almost jumped out of his skin, blabbering nosense and trying to hug him without hugging him for real. Felix knew that he was knocked off for some time, it wasn’t the first time he did that, but something felt… strange. And he understood why when he tried to lift his arms to rest them on Sylvain’s shoulders.  
“… oh.”  
His right arm was here, all in one piece, but different: his pale skin was a map for purple, red and blue marks in a shape of a million bolts, starting at his shoulders and fanning out on his fingers.  
Some were raised and looked like fresh scars, but nothing was hurting him. And then, he heard Sylvain’s shaky voice.

“Manuela told… told me that your arm bursted open. It was burned and the nerves were… well, she said _cooked_ but- she fixed it, even it should still feel numb but… those red things are…”  
Felix watched as Sylvain’s fingers were tracking a particular big one, blue and red, with the softness of a butterfly; he seemed scared to touch him, Felix realized with a tinge of pain.  
“… the bolt ran into my veins?” He said flatly, trying to move his fingers; his pinky brushed against the other’s chin.  
Sylvain nodded, feeling on the verge of tears once again.  
He thought that Felix would never wake up again, would never be able to feel his touch again, would never be able to hold a sword again and that was so painful, all alone in that big room with almost a corpse under his watch. Without thinking, Sylvain took Felix’s hand into his, placing his lips against the still burning skin.

“I’m so sorry Felix… I almost hit the Professor when you came back, it was… I thought you were dead and I wasn’t here to protect you and-“  
“I was glad you weren’t here.” Felix interrupted, watching him with honeyed eyes like their roles were switched, for once. “I hate using my magic. It’s not… controllable at those levels, and if I would hurt you with your stupid head always turns towards me…” He paused, trying to flex his fingers, trying to feel at least some pain. It was successful at least, since he flinched while a burn sensation, like lava, ran into his arm. Promising?  
“Even if this arm is awful now.” He almost missed Sylvain’s laugh, but not his muffled words.  
“If you think so, I’ll kiss it for days. Oh, your ears are burned too?”

That fucking lovely idiot.


	16. 16. in canon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Felix! Here you are- do you want to go to dinner with me? Tonight’s specia-“  
“No.”

16\. in canon

“Felix! Here you are- do you want to go to dinner with me? Tonight’s specia-“  
“No.”

That was a scene repeated basically every evening: Sylvain came wherever Felix was (usually at the training grounds but who knows, once he found him even in the library), imposed himself with loud voice and asked Felix to go to a date with him. Breakfast, lunch, dinner: every break was used by Sylvain, various times, without any success.  
It became an attraction of some sort at Garreg Mach and students almost ran to see how Felix would throw Sylvain and his avances away.

That time, tho, seemed no different from the others. They were near the greenhouse, Felix with a feet already on the stairs to his room and Sylvain with hands on his knees, trying to regain some breath after what seemed like a mad run from the refectory.  
The swordsman was not amused by that display of really long legs and stared at Sylvain with a deadpan expression. That glance, very much like a puppy’s one, didn’t work on Felix but Sylvain seemed to forget that everytime.

“You’re a nuisance. I told you, I don’t want to go to dinner with y-“  
“It’s not like that!!” Oh, that was strange. Sylvain yelled -and he didn’t do that besides in battle-, marching towards the other and clasping his hands on his shoulders.

Felix looked almost amused by that, his mouth shutted and his arms left on his sides. Okay, maybe he would listen what nonsense Sylvain would spat at him.  
Even if all he could see on the other’s features was concern, and that was strange. “And?” He whispered, in contrast with Sylvain’s yelling voice.

The knight took a big breath throught his nose, closed his eyes like he was gaining courage from only the Goddess knew where. “I noticed…” He began, opening his eyes again just to fix them into Felix’s ones, to express his concern at the core of the problem.  
“That is three days since you ate something decent besides those biscuits Mercedes made and forced you to eat.” Sylvain paused, again, tumbling with his feet. Even if he tried to win girls every damn day, those real and sincere things were new to him and difficult, that was clear as the day.

“I’m worried Felix, you know? Yeah it’s training to not die in battle, yeah it’s important to you, but you’re important to me and I’m-“  
He was interrupted by a pair of hands, which shoved themselves on Sylvain’s mouth. That was violent, but not so much as Felix wanted it to be.  
“I get it.” He mumbled, eyeing down to their feet. “Just this time.”  
_But you’re wrong as always, I train to not let you be killed, to be your shield, and you’ll never know this._  
Under his hands Felix could feel Sylvain’s smile and words, muffled by the skin. His breath was hot. “It is a date??”  
“… Yeah, it’s a date, you moron. But not let this to be an habit.”

It became not an habit, but a courtship. At least that was what Claude said to Felix after two months.


	17. 17. age difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix really couldn’t believe that: Sylvain was outside of his high school, standing proud and way too tall in front of a car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a disclaimer: I'm following Italy's laws since I'm more comfortable with them, so Felix is 18 and Sylvain is 21, even if Felix still goes to high school!

17\. age difference

Felix really couldn’t believe that: Sylvain was outside of his high school, standing proud and way too tall in front of a car. A motherfucking car.   
He knew that the older obtained his driver license some months ago but he was also sure that Mr. Gautier had no intentions on giving a car to his son. But now, with a fucking monster on four wheels, black and red, Felix felt unease at the pit of his stomach. 

And his classmates were here to see that and to talk about it for weeks, nice.

“Felix!” Sylvain was smiling really wide, waving his left hand towards his boyfriend. He admitted that he looked very cool with that car, even if that wasn’t something he was going to say anytime soon; he just surpassed him, basically throwing himself on the passenger seat and folding his arms against chest.   
“Do you want to get in or not? I would like to go home. I have homeworks to do, in case you forgot, mr. University.”  
“Allright allright, maybe your father will not hate me for driving you around if I return you back home in an hour, right?”   
All Felix could hear and see was a smirk biggest than the steering wheel, and he huffed while Sylvain turned on the car and started to go out from the parking lot.

___

“Y-You said that- that I would be at home in an hour-AH!”  
They didn’t make far, to be honest. With a mutual agreement they landed on a forgotten parking lot behind a supermarket and everything from that went down the hill with the force of a flood.   
Felix forgot about his homeworks, Sylvain forgot about his exam scheduled for the next day, and the younger was straddling the older with his arms around the other’s neck. 

Sylvain was, basically, palming him above his uniform’s pants while Felix’s back was hitting against the wheel with every studder of his own hips. The redhead’s lips were locked on his neck, right under the collar, sucking the skin with a sheer violence.   
He smirked too, leaving a streak of saliva all over the white shirt; disgusting.

“Yeah I said that, but tomorrow I have a very rough exam and…” He bit the same point he was lapping at it before, earning a suffucated moan from Felix. That was wrong on so many levels: first of all, Sylvain was almost mounting him in a fucking new car, in the middle of the day in a parking lot; second, both of them need to study and no one of them was doing that in the moment; third, Felix was still in high school -yeah, he’s an adult now, eighteen years and of all that- and Sylvain at the University.

“But if someone will see us- goddammit Sylvain your hand-!” Felix freezed, biting his lower lip while Sylvain hand slipped under his layers, ghosting fingers on his erection without thinking twice.   
“Let them see.” He whispered right in his ear, dangerous and still too much powerful in a situation like that, while Felix is like pudding and he hated so much being like that, not in control and aroused by being fucked into a car by his three-years-older boyfriend.   
He whined, grasping with his nail the meat of Sylvain’s shoulders. That was-   
“And if tomorrow someone will ask you why your neck is so red, you will remember how good it felt and I will see you almost naked in my car while I’ll do my exam.”  
At that, Felix just whined and tried to open Sylvain’s shirt with trembling fingers, when the small space into the car was filled by Felix’s ringtone. He hissed, arching is back to take the phone and stop whatever metal song he put in it, ready to undress Sylvain as soon as possible when he saw the name on the screen.

“Yeah…?” He tried, picking up the call.

“Felix, is almost eight and I’m really hoping that you’re not fucking with Sylvain instead of study, because if is that the case I’m gonna tell dad.”


	18. 18. hurt/comfort

18\. hurt/comfort

Right after the Miklan’s affair, Sylvain seemed to them all cheerful and idiotic as usual, just a little bit sad in those small lines around his eyes.   
No one believed him, obviously, but they let that facade fluttered like it was real and the knight was not affected by the death of his brother. Everyone did it, to not put more pain into those honey eyes; everyone, except Felix.  
He didn’t drink that bullshit, he saw right throught that fake appareance more than once and that night was the proof he didin’t need, but he had. 

He was trying to go to his room after a very late sparring session with the professor -they didn’t have the real permission to do so but everyone was asleep, so who cared?-, tiredness fulling his muscles as well as the lactic acid.   
Felix was drained, but in a strange good way and a small smile was on his face, since he heard a sound he hoped he wouldn’t ear. A clear sob, coming right from Sylvain’s room, echoing into the empty corridor. For a moment he wondered… what if he pretended to not heard anything and went straight to bed? What if…

“Sylvain?” He murmered, trying to not to wake up Dimitri, way too near to their rooms. He wasn’t expecting an answer to be honest, he just wanted to check if he’s at least alive. And, for sure, he didn’t expect to hear the door opening into a pit of darkness and an horrible, yet familiar, smell of blood.  
“… what are you doing to yourself…” 

Thank the Goddess he was able to lit a stray candle nearby, maybe on Sylvain’s desk, with a touch of magic… just to see a pitiful scene. Sylvain was here, sitting on the hard floor, just in his pajama pants.  
His head was squished between his own hands and his shoulders were shaking almost uncontrollably; Felix couldn’t see his eyes even when he knelt down, almost scared to approach him until he saw… them.   
They littered Sylvain’s arms like normal paper cuts but Felix knew, they were made with a fine blade, a blade that Miklan gave to Sylvain with nothing but malicious intents. In death he succeded to hurt his brother even more.

“F-Felix…?” His voice was so fragile in that moment, Felix couldn’t believe he could act so carefree around the others when he was burying so much pain into his chest, just to be devoured by it. He was familiar with the sensation of be eaten alive by grief, sorrow and rage; that time was Sylvain the one who rescued him from that pit of darkness.   
It was their job, holding the other to the surface of life.

“Yeah, I’m here. Let me heal them, I learned the spell from Linhardt-“ Like a lost puppy Sylvain held his arms between them; his eyes were empty, lost, and the green light of the healing spell was almost not reflecting in them.   
One by one, those cuts -some deeper than the others- disappeared, but every one was engraved in Felix’s memory.   
Miklan could call himself lucky to be dead in the way he did, otherwise Felix would-

“I am… I am sorry, I didn’t want to-“ Sylvain began to shake again, large and hot tears were rolling down his hollowing cheeks, right into the floor, right into Felix’s heart, burning everything on their way. The latter didn’t say a word.   
He just traced with his thumbs Sylvain’s forearms, following the path of the dagger, stopping right at the other’s cheeks; they remained like that until the candle burned itself.  
Only in that moment Felix dragged Sylvain into the most meaningful hug of their lives.   
He welcomed the pain, the tears, the howls of sorrow and grief… and the fear.   
“You’re not becoming like him, Sylvain.” He soothed him, murmuring into the crown of his head, in that dark room where no one could see them; Sylvain reacted with a deep, wounded cry, trying to melt himself into Felix’s chest, gripping at the swordsman forearms like his life was depending on that. Felix forced himself to swallow that hard knot in his throat.

The dawn, peeking out from the window, founded them like that; Felix, sleeping while he was sitting on the floor, with an asleep Sylvain on his lap; they were both smiling, welcoming the new day.


	19. 19. lone wolf

19\. lone wolf

After the war, restauration was happening everywhere in Fòdlan.   
Pieces of the Empire were redistributed between those who where loyal to the Alliace -or, to be more specific, to Claude- and the Kingdom was suffering the death of the king in Gronder. At the moment, Fòdlan had a king, right in the being of the Archbishop Byleth, but that was… not enough.

Faerghus always was a very fiery land, with old traditions and old blood soaking its soil, and the nobles found very difficult to adapt.   
A lot of them simply vanished, a lot of them died, and one in particular went missing right after the end of the war. Felix, now Duke Fraldarius, was the only one with the right for the throne, if Faerghus would become again a kingdom, rather than a piece of a larger country.   
His rank was right under the prince and with him missing, the entire dukedom started to crumble.  
It was Sylvain, now Margrave Gautier, the one who ran to save the dukedom from its inevitable fall.

Two years passed and rumors started to flow into his castle. Rumors of a mercenary with two swords, lethal as the plague, killing every single bandit in all Farghus for the right amount of money.   
They talked about a teal coat, a cascade of inky hair and two piercing eyes. They described him like a lone wolf.

In the beginning Sylvain tried to avoid those rumors, denying court hearing at those who talked about him. He tried to not have hope, not in the slightest, because he was afraid to understand the truth. Even so, in a matter of weeks everyone was talking about him; the hardest one to ignore was Mercedes, who was visiting him for a couple of days.

“Sylvain… I know this is hard, but I’m pretty sure that- you know, the Lone Wolf- I’m sure he’s Felix. And you’re sure too.”  
Her words weighed like two armours at once, because Sylvain knew as well that no one would match so well with the rumors. He knew Felix as well as the palms of his hands, or maybe even more, and everytime they spoke about those piercing eyes a jolt of pain went throught the margrave’s spine. 

He didn’t want to be hopeful.   
He didn’t dare to dream.   
He didn’t want to believe that Felix was still alive, still protecting him and his people from the shadows he choose.  
And yet, he dreamed and hoped and loved like the first day he met him.

In one of those nights, Sylvain decided to give a body to those rumors, to see with his eyes what all the fuss was about. To see his hopes shattered on the ground like Garreg Mach’s glass all those years ago. He summoned him to his castle, at his service, not even knowing what to say if Felix actually would show up.  
He was sitting into his black chair, with no armour but a simple red and black vest, his hair longer than ever and his eyes glued to the door. Sylvain’s heart was hammering into the chest, his clammy hands were fumbling with some papers, tearing them apart when that door opened, revealing his hopes in a human form.

Hair longer on his shoulders, a worn out teal coat and an old armour on his chest, two swords with wolf’s heads at the end of the hilt, and eyes so deep and dark that Sylvain thought he would kill him on the spot, and he wouldn’t mind. But the smirk on those chapped lips…

“Ehy, Sylvain. You know that I was just waiting?”  
The margrave did nothing but cry, forgetting all his servants and the chair slammed against the wall by his standing up, by his running towards him.   
That day two things died, in a bear hug and in an open-mouthed kiss; the margraviate and the fable of the Lone Wolf.


	20. 20. clothed sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We don’t have time, Fe.
> 
> Sylvain said almost an hour before, while they were packing for the next mission: a small group of bandits, in the Alliance territory.

20\. clothed sex

_We don’t have time, Fe._

Sylvain said almost an hour before, while they were packing for the next mission: a small group of bandits, in the Alliance territory.

_I promise, it’ll be fast!! At the camp we won’t have time for us…_

Those puppy eyes got him like every single time, with an huff and a brief nod. Felix was expecting to go into their quarters, maybe Sylvain’s room, but the redhead had other plans.  
They were hidden near the graveyard, not quite here but near enough to be caught in no time.   
Felix didn’t really know why he accepted to do this in that place, in the middle of the fucking day, with his hands against the wall scraping at the mortar between the bricks.   
His hair were everywhere, his back arched in an almost impossible way, while his pants were pooled where his high boots begin. A quick round for sure, since Sylvain just opened his own pants without bothering to take the armour off, so with every push there was the cling of metal against metal.

The teal fabric of Felix’s coat was hiding where they met with every stroke and every sgrunt, stained with fluids Felix didn’t want to think about. His mind was elsewhere, right inside of himself where Sylvain was rubbing so hard and with need, his hands glued to Felix’s sides in an iron grip.   
It would bruise the skin, he was sure of that, and tried to say something between hisses and moans, failing miserably and earning a chuckle from Sylvain.

“You said that you didn’t want to do this in the open but look at you.”   
His words were all smirks and smiles, his hands started to travel on Felix’s torso reaching his chest over the fabric. The bastard knew that Felix was oversensitive in that area, and with a kiss on the ear’s shell he started to rub his fingers, starting with large circles all around the muscles.

“I said that- fuck Sylvain- I didn’t want to do it in the open like an an-ahn!” Felix tried, really, to speak venom even in that moment but he knew that his words were all barks and no bites at all.   
Even better he felt Sylvain become even more hard inside of him, brushing and hitting with a force he never shown even in battle that bundle of nerves that made Felix drool, almost, not quite yet.   
Arching his back again, Felix let his head on the other’s shoulder, his breath coming out in hot puffs synchronized with those pushes and those hands. Hands that pinched in a whim at his nipples, even under three layers of fabric.

The only thing that was solid in that moment was the presence behind him and inside him as well, two hot spots that burned everything of Felix, leaving him bare even with all those clothes on.   
He could feel precum dripping from his swollen, hard cock right into the ground pooling into the dust, and something wet and obscene between his thighs, drooling from the point where Sylvain was connected to him. No more talking at that point, just moans and guttural cries from both of them, while they were trying to come at the same moment; just when Sylvain decided to speed up and let a hand travel south until it reached Felix’s erection, they were both well over the edge.   
They came almost at the same time, biting their lips until blood came out to not be heard, holding each other and staining the majority of Felix’s clothes.

“I swear Sylvain that if my clothes are ruined because of your fucking dick I will chop it off.”  
Just when the swordsman tried to pull his pants on Sylvain understood, seeing the wet stain on the other’s butt, that he would not finish to pack his stuff.

He would be dead sooner.


	21. 21. lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of that was Anna’s fault, Felix was sure of it.

21\. lingerie

All of that was Anna’s fault, Felix was sure of it.   
She and her stupid idea about how to make your boyfriend the happiest man in the world or something like that; in the end she gave him a small package -taking his money without batting an eye- with a wink and a maybe too wide smile.  
The day went by like a foggy dream: Felix hardly remembered to have invited Sylvain to his room after dinner, and also to have entered said room locking the door behind himself. The package, made of brownish paper, was still on his bed.   
Careful, like that was an enemy of some sort, Felix unwrapped it revealing something not even in his wildest dreams he could ever thought about putting on himself.  
“What the- Goddess Sylvain, you definitely owe me more than one.” He breathed out, looking at his shameful self in the cloudy mirror he borrowed from Mercedes.

“Felix?”   
Oh, that was strange.   
He invited him for the evening and the door was locked? Maybe he forgot about it? Nah, impossible, Felix couldn’t forget anything even if he tried.   
Sylvain knocked louder this time, earning in response a yelp and the key turned quickly. He caught Felix by surprise?  
“You can enter but- keep your eyes closed. Don’t peek. I swear Sylvain, I will kill you if you do.”   
The redhead could feel both his mouth go dry and the slightly panic in Felix’s voice, not the worrying kind but a total new one. He did as told, mostly because he knew that Felix could kill him in an istant, and heard the door being shutted again behind his back. Felix didn’t make any sounds, maybe he was barefoot?  
“Feeeelix, I can op-“  
“Y-You can.” He didn’t miss the light stumble in the other’s voice, but he obliged as soon as possible. Even the light from the candles was too bright for a second, but after that… something else was too bright. 

Dazzling.

Felix stood here in the middle of the room, his pale skin just grazed by the moon and the candles, his scars even more translucent than ever. Even if he was breathless anyway, Sylvain almost passed out seeing what was on that dreamy body.  
Probably that was silk. A black silk with inlays in deep, wine red, cascading from his chest to his thighs, just under the curve of his ass; on the shoulders two little straps, holding it together and, infamous delight of his, hair worn completely down.   
Felix wasn’t facing him; his eyes were making holes into the floor, even when he decided to turn and at that Sylvain didn’t suppress a moan. The back of the… thing was completely open until his dimples right before his ass, revealing the strong muscles of his pale back and all of his moles, littering the skin like stars.   
At every movement, the silky thing riled up, revealing Felix’s cheeks, just enough to tease Sylvain’s brain out.

Maybe Felix was waiting for his reaction, for some words or whatever he wanted to say or do, but nothing came out of Sylvain’s mouth, still slightly open and eyes so bright, they seemed like lava from the Ailell. Felix decided, at least, to peek from his shoulder; he was burning red from his cheeks to the ears, eyes watery from embarassement and maybe arousal, who knew. 

“… like what you see?”   
He said with quiet voice, deep and masculine, so in contrast with what he was wearing… and something in Sylvain’s head snapped.  
Felix reacted to his iron grip with a yelp, being almost lifted up from the impetuosity of Sylvain. He was going to bruise his ass for sure, and in reality Felix didn’t mind that much. He could even feel the other’s erection against his thigh, and something like a smirk creeped out from the shame of that display.

“I take that as a yes.”

Sylvain only growled in response, cutting him off with a biting kiss.


	22. 22. morning sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was feeling cuddly, and that was strange for Felix, in the morning even more.

22\. morning sex

It was one of the few lazy mornings they had, with no duty until lunch and a snowy weather, unusual for Garreg Mach but welcomed by the Faerghus’ kids.   
In Sylvain’s bed, under a pile of cozy blue and grey blankets and near some lit candles to fight against the dimness of the day, Felix was starting to stir up, cracking his eyes open just to see a mop of red hair right on his chest. The snow was engulfing all the noises, making the room comfortable and almost like home.   
He felt himself smile, running fingers onto Sylvain’s shoulder.

“Fe…? What time is it…?” Sylvain asked with husky voice, his eyes still closed, legs shifted against Felix’s ones just to have more room and more skin to skin.   
Felix’s hand ran on the other bicep, tracing mindless patterns all over the skin. He was feeling cuddly, and that was strange for Felix, in the morning even more.

“I don’t know, but outside is snowing, so I think we don’t have anything to do.” His words obtained a soft moan from Sylvain, his lips tracing Felix’s collarbone until they sat against the neck, leaving feather-like kisses.   
They always started like that in the morning, with light touch and brief kisses, exploring one another like they had a life to do so. Felix’s hand wandered a little bit lower, tracing now his abs with just his fingertips, teasing lightly at the red strand of hair that lowered down into his groin, and then up again, touching maybe a little bit harder his right nipple, just for fun.

At that move Sylvain moaned again, this time louder, his hips starting lazly to rub against Felix’s thigh; for his part, he just went with his hand right on Felix’s lower back, feeling the roundness of his ass without much thinking, more like absentminded with a foxy smile on his lips.   
“Mmmh… it seems like you have something in mind and it’s not training, am I right?”  
The teasing tone was like music to Felix’s ears, his hand now way lower than before, ghosting over his growing erection; that was a game they played often, miming each other’s movements to build up heat between them.   
Sylvain lost himself and his hand touching Felix, tracing the underside of his cock just to rest on the tip. In the morning all of that was even easier, like when Felix closed his hand all around Sylvain, pumping lazily and slowly. 

Their ragged breath was melting into moans, right against each other’s lips, and Felix winched when Sylvain began to touch him seriously, his rough palm on the sensitive skin, earning a shudder from his hips. Their ritm was steady, sometimes with a little more force, sometimes wet, open-mouthed kisses interrupted the string of moans, low cries and sobs.

They wanted to last, both wanted to see the other crumble apart by their touch, so different compared to the night before when they were a sticky mess, sweat all over their bodies and come on their stomachs. Right now, they just…

“Sylvain I’m… I’m going to…” Felix’s voice was low, more than ever, and a little pleading just the way Sylvain liked it; he felt every word under his skin, a loud moan left his lips without him controlling it. He nodded to, quickening up the pace, brushing his fingers on the tip with the same movement of Felix’s hand, way smaller than his but maybe, just maybe, more skilled.   
“Me too… Fe- Oh Goddess, Felix-“

Their moans died into each other’s mouth, chest pressed together and bodies trembling; that was slow, lovely, lazy. They didn’t even looked at each other down here, under all the blankets.   
The only thing Sylvain, already sleepy again, was able to see in the afterglow was Felix, licking at his own hand, staring into his eyes with cat-like grin.

Okay maybe he didin’t need to go back to sleep, after all.


	23. 23. fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain, don’t tell me that instead of my beautiful plants you bought a fireplace while I was gone.

23\. fireplace

“Sylvain, don’t tell me that instead of my beautiful plants you bought a fireplace while I was gone. Tell me I’m seeing the wrong wall and my plants are safe where they should be or I swear I fucking kill you on the spot.”

Felix, his suitcase forgotten behind him somewhere, was staring at said wall with wide eyes. Here, against the creamy colour, there had always been his cactuses, a giant collection; and now, with his boyfriend sitting on a rug, on that same well there was an huge fireplace, all black with a crackling fire inside.  
It would be nice, since their home is a modern one and a fireplace like that in the living room was a nice touch, definitely better than the ugliest chandelier in the world -now in the guest room-, if Felix wasn’t so against changes without him know about them before.

To Sylvain that idea semeed smart, doing all the work while Felix wasn’t at home to surprise him with that beautiful gift, since he lamented every winter that it’s very cold in the room even with the central heating.   
Not aknowledging his boyfriend’s disappointment, Sylvain smiled wide and patted the spot near himself, right in front of the damn fireplace.

“Your adorable cactuses are fine in the hobby room, since you’re so worried even with hours of flight on you. Now babe, why don’t you rest yourself here? I swear, the rug is the comfiest one!!”  
He looked so happy and almost pure here, his hair were lighten up by the flames so much that they were almost like fire themselves.   
Sylvain’s eyes were sparkling too, and the other could not deny that the spot seemed comfy and Sylvain seemed warm as the fire.

With a scowl Felix undressed himself from the coat, putting it on the nearest chair; he kicked out his boots and padded on the wooden floor, until he landed without a spark of grace on the rug, bouncing almost.  
“… why you did not tell me?” He was sulking because, now that he was sitting right in front of it, the fireplace looked and felt really nice, like the last piece the house needed. And that was a thing Felix would never give to Sylvain, to be right this time too.   
Not at all.

“I wanted it to be a surprise. You know Fe, two years ago I walked in by that door over there with you in my arms right in front of the workers. It’s the anniversary!”  
Not their anniversary, but maybe the house’s one? Felix looked at him silently and then right into the flames.   
That day… was a mess. Sylvain insisted to open the door for him and in a pinch he felt himself lifted up, right in front of all those men who laughed softly.   
And then, he remembered.  
“… I said that day… that a fireplace should be nice and that I wanted it even if our budget wasn’t enough!” Felix said that with crescent surprise, looking again at Sylvain who was smiling ear to ear.   
Of course he remembered, that sly fox, and of course he needed to-

“Well, I surprised y-mmmph!!” Sylvain couldn’t finish, because Felix almost bit at his lips with throwing himself right in his arms. He didn’t want to talk, he want to use his actions to speak for himself, like a bruising kiss to say ‘Thank you, I love it and I love you’, or pressing Sylvain on the rug.  
Oh, this is convenient, he thought, welcoming Felix with his hands on the hips. They didn’t get up until all the wood burned up in that more than welcomed fireplace.

The day after, tho, Felix moved the biggest cactus in the corner. To asserting dominance, he said.


	24. 24. post canon

24\. post canon

They won the war.

Felix remember that day like it was some hours ago: Dimitri, rampant with joy and regret at the same time, with the Professor in his arms; Dedue, with a smile on his face and Ashe tucked into his arms, a bloody cloth on his thigh; Ingrid, proudly smiling near her pegasus with Annette and Mercedes on her sides to hold her body; Sylvain, with his hand around Felix’s waist, a triumphant smile on his lips pressed in the crown of Felix’s hair.  
They won. They could be back home now.

Even if Felix didn’t know what home was for him, in that moment.

“You know what? I think you prefer my castle, Margrave Gautier. You’re staying here a little too much.”  
Both of them knew that was half true. Sylvain hated with passion his territory for reasons, and found Felix’s domain more comfortable, warmer and happier. He did tell Felix all of that when he presented himself on a horse and half of his court behind him, a smile on his face and cheeks red for the cold.  
Basically, their territories merged into one, big, dukedom.  
Sylvain didn’t left his title behind, but became Felix’s vassal, and they ruled over the land from the Sreng territory until the end of the dukedom, together. It wasn’t a marriage per se, not officialy, but Dimitri blessed the thing with a big smile and a crushing bear hug, so that was okay for all the nobles.  
Not that they had a choice.

“Ah ahn, you say that but if I can recall correctly you bought this big bed for us to share it.” Sylvain’s voice was full of mirth while he was rolling over the sheets and the fur blankets of said bed, his eyes fixated on Felix.  
The duke, with his hair worn down, was sitting on his desk reading a letter. A very important letter, since it announced the wedding between Dedue and Ashe that spring, and they were invited.  
He huffed, his robe shifting as he put his right let on the left, facing that lazy ogre of his… boyfriend? Husband? Lover? He didn’t know for sure.  
“Just because you came in my rooms every night and the bed I had before was too small for your idiotic large body.”

They won the war, and that domestic life was here just because of that. Sometimes Felix thought about it, about how much different their lives would have been -if they were alive- if Dimitri didn’t came back, if they had chosen differently.  
Maybe he wouldn’t had Sylvain in his bed two years after, maybe he would be dead. And at that Felix stood up, forgetting the letter, walking towards a very confused Sylvain just to hug him. Tight, desperately, with the face tucked under his chin, ear pressed against his chest.  
“Felix..?” He was confused, and not in a good way. But that didin’t matter.  
He was alive, solid against his own body, in his castle, at his command; he was his lover, every night they made love like the first time, every morning he woke up seeing Sylvain’s face, his freckles, his slightly-open mouth.  
In a different world, maybe he would not had all of this.  
In a different world, he could have been mourning for all his life.

“I am just…” He began, his voice low as a whisper, interrupted by the crackling fire into the fireplace. “I am happy we are alive.”  
Sylvain stood silent for a second and then a wide, fond smile spreaded on his face while he was holding Felix like he was the most precious thing in the world.  
He really was, for him.  
“Yeah. Me too.”


	25. 25. size difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s absolutely infuriating to see how much bigger Sylvain became in those five years.

25\. size difference

It’s absolutely infuriating to see how much bigger Sylvain became in those five years.   
He was always taller, broader than him, but now seeing him without his armour made Felix realize how big he was.

And he loved it.

Every time they made love on the bed, without rush, Felix was glad of those large shoulders, easy to have a grip on them, perfect to leave red marks with every push. He felt secure -not that it was something he would tell Sylvain, not in this life- with that large figure looming over him, melting into his very body. 

He was always petite, lean, slender and muscular, not very tall comparing to his friends, and his body locked into Sylvain’s to perfection, like he was a key and the other was a keyhole.   
Like when was Felix on top of him, between his big thighs, brushing their cocks together without much effort; from that angle, everytime he could have a look at his large chest, his collarbones, the column of his neck.   
He loved to see how much smaller his hands were in comparison to the other’s pectorals; his fingers ran over the abs, drowning in the sight of the skin tremble under his own touch.

Even when they had no time at all before a battle, or after a sparring session, with Felix pressed against a wall; Sylvain’s large hands, hot and rough, were all over him.   
On his hips, his thighs sorrounding them with ease, on his waist so small the fingers could touch each other.   
When Sylvain decided to lift him from under the butt and Felix’s legs went around his hips, holding for dear life, tallons on the small of his back.

Everytime Felix went down with his face on Sylvain’s hips he felt those thighs, big and bulky because of horse riding, all around him. His head was utterly small between the muscles, they could crush him in a second and that thing was enough to send a spark throught Felix’s spine.

Maybe he had a kink for Sylvain’s size.   
He was not really sure until he felt his own erection trobbing at the simple sight of the other’s naked back right in front of himself. Or maybe until he realized that he had Sylvain’s collarbones at his height; he could bite them, lick them, without much effort.

Or maybe when, after the war, after the fear of die or see the other die, Sylvain was on top of him, his eyes filled with adoration, shielding Felix from all the pain in the world, making him feel safe for the first time in almost all his life.   
When he felt the first push inside of himself and cried against the palm of Sylvain’s big hands, when those big arms were on the sides of his head and that wide chest melted into his.  
Like the first time, Felix squeezed Sylvain’s shoulders, he made them his, he marked them with nails and blood.   
It’s infuriating, yeah. But at the same time the biggest turn on of his life.  
“I like… that you’re bigger than me.”  
He said that with husky voice, in the shell of his ear, and he didn’t regret the reaction at all. 

Maybe, Felix thought while Sylvain pinned him against the mattress, engulfing his entire body, he should’ve said that long time ago.


	26. 26. introspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing Felix felt when he saw Sylvain, that redhead boy near his father’s friend, was a mixture of annoyance and excitement.

26\. introspective

The first thing Felix felt when he saw Sylvain, that redhead boy near his father’s friend, was a mixture of annoyance and excitement. 

First of all, he was older than him and he had the tendency to boss Felix around a little bit, making fun of him not because he was bad, but because it was fun. Not like Glenn did, of course, but sometimes Felix was sure that Sylvain would love a kick into his knees.   
But at the same time he was the first boy of his age he even had the chance to know. There were others, yeah, not noble as him and Rodrigue was always strict about not be friend with commoners, not for real tho.

Sylvain was Felix first and favourite friend. His special person.

Sylvain was Felix first crush, and first kiss too. 

That happened right before Glenn’s death.   
He was twelve and Sylvain was fifteen but they played like they were still little boys with round cheeks and no hair on their body. Sylvain always smiled at him, and Felix was so happy to see him, to be with him, to take Sylvain’s hand when they were running down the gardens at Fraldarius’ estate.   
It happened in a heartbeat; Felix fell by putting his foot in a rabbit hole or something like that, the world span all around and without knowing how and why he was with his back on the ground, and Sylvain over him.   
Both of them didn’t know what they were doing, when their lips met with a small, hurried peck.   
They didn’t talk about it.

Sylvain was his first heartbreak. 

That happened in Garreg Mach, while Felix was steel and Sylvain was chasing something he didn’t even know. But, this time, Felix knew what his heart screamed for years.   
It wasn’t a crush, he really was in love with Sylvain and that thing was so foreigner and oddly perfect at the same time.   
However it was clear as glass that Sylvain wasn’t interested -Felix didn’t say anything about it too-, chasing women and men all over the monastery and the near village, without laying eye on Felix.   
Not a single damn time. After months it was clear and after months Felix decided to at least tell him.  
But everything fell apart.

Five years passed without seeing each other, five years and Felix was sure to be over that… love? Could he call it in that way? He wasn’t sure.  
Five years and he thought he was free from Sylvain, his cursed smile, his cursed body. And then, in a dawn at Garreg Mach Felix saw his red hair again and everything became like before.   
Nothing really changed, not the thump of his heart, not his red cheeks, not that feeling he was supposed to cancel from his mind.   
This time was just worse, the fear of dying all over their heads like Damocle’s sword; love and fear were not a good pair.

The war finished.   
They had to kill old friends, familiar faces, but in the end they were alive. That was incredible just as it was, not to mention the smile Sylvain was giving to Felix right here, while they were on a scarred terrace in Enbarr.   
They were all muddy, their clothes stained by blood, but that smile was the sun Felix needed to be alive.  
He chased it, walking first and then running, running to smash against Sylvain’s chest, remaining without breath for a long, long second.   
That couldn’t be real.   
That wasn’t Sylvain’s voice, muffled by his own lips, saying that he loved him from that snowy day, so many years ago.   
The world vanished, blood thrumming into his ears.

Definitely, Sylvain was his first, and his last, love.


	27. 27. ring

27\. ring

He was near to throw up everything he ate for dinner.   
Seriously, right in that bush, because his stomach was doing backflips since that morning, and he was holding it just because Dedue cooked one of his favourite dishes and-  
“Sylvain? Are you all right?”   
Mercedes’ sweet voice reached him like a soothing, warm cozy blanket, and from the bench he was sitting on Sylvain eyed her, a wobbly smile on his lips.   
“Oh, ehy Mercedes… well, right, not at all. Do you have a moment?”

Mercedes was really the only one Sylvain was comfortable to speak right now because she was not going to scold him like Ingrid or letting an embarassing silence like Dimitri. She was kind, like a big sister.   
He felt relieved when she nodded, a small smile on her lips, and in a moment she was sitting next to him, rubbing her hand on his shoulder.  
“So, what’s happened? During dinner you seemed pretty nervous, Felix was worried- well, everyone was worried but-“  
Eh, Felix.   
He was the cause of that problem, not in the first place but in a broad sense, if he could say so.   
Sylvain shrugged, reaching in his pocket to reveal a small box in a very dark blue fabric. He could feel Mercedes’ eyes widen like tea plates.   
Goddess, please have mercy.   
“This was why. This thing and Felix, to be completely honest.”  
She remained silent, so Sylvain took all of his strenght to open that small box.   
Inside of it there was a ring, a silver band with a diamond in the center and rubies on it’s side. It was a pretty heavy ring, because there was just one meaning to that. Sylvain knew it very well.

“I don’t know how to ask him to marry me. I know, it’s silly, but I’m such a coward Mercie, I don’t know what to do.” He let out a shaky breath, covered his eyes with the right hand.   
He was so lame, probably Mercedes was laughing at him right now and maybe Felix didn’t even thought about marriage at all. He wasn’t the type, while Sylvain… well, he discovered himself as an hopeless romantic, a sucker for cuddles and red roses and all of that stuff.   
Maybe he should’ve throw the ring a long time ago.  
“… you tried at least to ask him? It’s simple you know, Felix is not the type to say no to you anyway.” She paused, putting the other hand on his shoulders too. A massage, simple as it was, which surprised Sylvain more than he wanted.   
“He loves you, Sylvain. There is no chance he will say no, not without a reason.” 

Her sweet voice was like a balsam on a old wound.   
Sylvain stared at the little box in his hand: this should’ve be simple, after all the things they survived together, the fear of death the night before every battle.   
That was just a formality for them, since they acted like a married couple for years by now.   
He shouldn’t be scared.  
“… I’m hoping he doesn’t have a reason. But… thank you, Mercie. I need to take you out for dinner!”  
That being said, Sylvain stood up and started walking like a mad man towards the refectory. Everyone should be still here and he was hearing Mercedes hurried footsteps behind him.   
So, simple.   
He opened the door, walked towards Felix with eyes glued to the floor.  
He went to his knees.   
He said something, probably words, probably not.  
The only thing he felt was the hardness of the floor when Felix threw himself at him.   
Oh, and maybe the ring between their joined hands.


	28. 28. broken glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened?! I heard you from the- fuck Felix, you hurt yourself?! Lemme see it-“

28\. broken glass

“Damn it-!” 

Water splashed all over the counter with a good amount of blood, and Felix was holding his left hand with a pained and full of hate towards the offense look.  
It was his turn to wash the dishes, since Sylvain was in the shower after gym and dinner, and he really didn’t mind. In the years they fell into a good routine, splittings chores every other day.

The culprit was a glass, a very fine wine glass to be honest, busted just when Felix was washing it; tiny and lethal pieces of glass were all over the floor and into the meat of his hand.  
He couldn’t move because of the glass tho, so he remained here with the hand under the water waiting for that idiot of an husband.

It didn’t took long, just two minutes, but Felix was angry -at himself for being careless and at the glass for being too fragile- and in another occasion he would’ve laugh at the sight of a very wet Sylvain with just his underwear on and hair glued to his head, eyes large as tennis balls.

“What happened?! I heard you from the- fuck Felix, you hurt yourself?! Lemme see it-“  
He tried to walk towards him, avoiding carefully the pieces of glass and hoping that the cat wouldn’t show herself at the chaos that the kitchen was in. 

“It’s just a small wound, that glass broke on me- e-ehy, it hurts!”  
Sylvain didn’t warn Felix before removing the tiny pieces of glass from his hand, brows furrowed and lips in a thin line. He threw them right into the trashbin, examining the other’s hand under the neon light over the counter.  
The blood already stopped for the most part thanks to the water and the wound was small for real, a linear cut on the palm. It looked really painful tho.

“… you are lucky Fe, if the glass would’ve cut just a little deeper we- I mean, I would’ve transport you to the hospital in ten minutes.” Sylvain mumbled, caressing Felix’s skin with his thumb. He earned a tch from the other, still eyeing that stupid glass shattered all over.  
“It’s Ingrid’s fault, I told her we didn’t need those fancy glasses.”  
Without mentioning that he wanted said glass to drink a little bit of wine.  
“It’s nothing Sylvain, you see that the blood stopped already. Don’t make that stupid face and help me to remove this shit from the floor, before Princess-“

Felix’s words died in his throat and not because of the pain, but because Sylvain didn’t hear a single word of his speech.  
He was still caressing his hand, but his lips were pressed on the wound taking care of every inch of it. They were small kisses, just pecks, and Felix could feel his cheeks ignite themselves without being able to not stare at Sylvain like he was an alien.  
His lips mimed a what without a sound.

In the moment Sylvain raised his eyes, he almost lost balance by laughing at the expression on Felix’s face. He was stunned, his mouth hanging open… and he was adorable.  
“It was for the pain!” Sylvain tried, at least, to explain it without losing himself in the process.  
“You remember when we were young and I busted open my knee? You did the same, saying pain pain fly away and I was so distracted by your cute face that I forgot the pain for a little time… so I thought-“

He couldn’t believe it.  
He couldn’t believe that his big, idiotic lover was capable of such innocence even at their age; it was absolutely ridiculous and incredibly cute. Or at least that was what Felix tried to say before hiding his face on his own shoulder.

“… thank you.”  
He murmured just those two words before tearing his hand away. His blush, however, was even deeper than the blood still in the sink.


	29. 29. fake boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Felix please, please, I will buy you all the swords from that merchant you like, I will offer you all my meat at dinner but please, just once…!”

29\. fake boyfriend

“Felix please, please, I will buy you all the swords from that merchant you like, I will offer you all my meat at dinner but please, just once…!”

That was a rather pathetic sight, right in the monastery’s hall: Felix with arms crossed on his chest and Sylvain bent over his knees on the floor, forehead against Felix’s boots and hands on his ankles.  
Everywhere around them were rumors and chatters from soldiers and students, but Sylvain didn’t seem to care less.  
He was concentrated to obtain an affermative sound from Felix, who was… well.  
Who was not buying it.

“Let me understand. You pissed off a girl like always and she has a very angry father who wants to beat you. I can relate.” His eyes darted into Sylvain’s, trying to make holes in that thic skull of his.  
“And you want me to be your fake boyfriend just to protect yourself from certain death. Am I right?”  
Sylvain also had the courage to nod, climbing Felix’s legs to hug his small waist and press his cheeks to the stomach.  
What did I say?  
Pathetic.  
“Yeah…! You don’t want to see me d-EEK, HE’S HERE!”  
A man entered the hall right in that moment: he was tall indeed, muscular, he seemed a blacksmith or something like that since he has an hammer by his side and a scold on his hairy face.  
Fantastic.  
He was also surpassing Felix’s height by various inches, expecially when he stopped right before the pair.

“You.” A grumble and he pointed at Sylvain -who was, by the way, hiding behind Felix’s frame for good mesure- with his hammer.  
“My daughter told me everything. I don’t fucking care if you’re a noble, you will die right now.”

A yelp escaped from the redhead and Felix huffed, eyes half closed and his endurance at its minimum.  
Not only Sylvain made a scene right in the hallway but he was able to antagonize the biggest blacksmith in all Fòdlan, it seemed. Even so, Felix wasn’t sure about what to do. He could just excuse himself out of the situation and let Sylvain at his destiny, or watch while that man made meatballs out of him.  
And he was going to do so, really.

Until.

Pissed off by the silence, the man made a fatal error.  
He pushed Felix -or, at least, he tried to do so- making angry noises at him.  
“Fuck off, you dwarf. I need to kill him or you want to become even more short?” At that, Felix just laughed. And that was a creepy sound which frightened Sylvain much more than the hammer or death herself, to be honest.  
Felix’s laugh was pure evilness and not fun whatsover, he heard that just one time before and… well, he was laughing at Rodrigue.

“You really think that I will let you? Hear me, scumbag.” Felix just pointed a finger against the man’s chest, starting to like his role.  
It was growing on him.  
“You will not touch my fucking boyfriend not now and surely not in the future. Now go fuck yourself with that hammer, for what I care.”  
The man, after moments of silence, started to became red as blood. His neck was bloating and his veins were snapping almost.  
But, ehy, a demonic beast is way worse and Felix was famous for taking them out in two blows.  
“And don’t try to hit me, I can snap your neck any time and I will do. Now go away.”

That was almost a miracle, because the man threw the hammer on the floor, breaking it, and left cursing Felix, Sylvain and only the Goddess knew who. After a long minute of silence while Felix was playing with the hammer still with a grin on his lips, Sylvain dared to speak.  
He was going to remain silent, but everything happened so fast and- “Goddess, you’re so hot Felix. I take it back, can I be your real boyfriend?”

Immediately he shutted his mouth closed, because Felix was smiling at him. And the combination of Felix and smile was not a good thing.  
“Sure. Do you mind hold this for me, darling?”  
He was holding the hammer with the head down.  
Just over Sylvain’s foot.  
“But with the promise you will never fuck anyone beside me and will never dare to ask something like that anymore. Oh, and enjoy your month of abstinence.”

With that, he left the hammer.


	30. 30. AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “More than sure Sylvain, it’s just a typical pub with rock music. Now come, they’re starting.”

30\. AU

“Is this the place?”  
Between the crowd Sylvain looked a little bit uncertained; he was dressed in a plain white shirt and jeans, totally different from the people here and even Glenn, who was wearing black cargo pants and a black shirt with a deep V-neck, with a lot of accessories. The other smiled, bringing the redhead towards the stage.  
“More than sure Sylvain, it’s just a typical pub with rock music. Now come, they’re starting.”

On that stage, which was visible now, there were five people with different outfits -some more aggressive, others more plain but in total black- and different instruments.   
A big man with bright white hair behind the drums, while a way smaller boy was behind a giant keyboard with a shirt with a logo Sylvain couldn’t recognize.   
But his eyes were glued to the others, much more interesting.   
A tall one with unruly golden hair and a guitar, massive boots and what seemed an eyepatch, and…

“The vocalist is my girldfriend, Ingrid.” Glenn provided with a lot of pride in his voice, pointing at a not so tall girl with short hair and big green eyes who was testing the mic.   
She was beautiful indeed, but the last one… a not so tall man, indigo hair all over his shoulders and a simple tank, covering almost nothing. Black ripped pants and studs all over him, a smidge of makeup under piercing eyes.   
He was dangerously Sylvain’s type.  
“Who-“

His voice was stopped by the music blasting from the speakers; definitely not rock but metal for sure, with an hint of folk or something like that… Sylvain is not an expert, but he could appreciate the clear voice of Glenn’s girlfriend -Ingrid, right?- and the not overpowering sound of the instruments.   
They were really good, in his opinion, even if they sang in a language he couldn’t recognize.

And then.

Without a mic, the hot looking guy started screaming his lungs off. A raspy voice filled the small pub, with much amusement from the crowd.   
He was also covering the bass in his own hands, hair all over his face as he hunced over them.  
Sylvain was shocked.  
Everytime he screamed, those eyes were searching them, him, holding the gaze with a burning will that sent chills over the redhead’s spine.   
Sylvain didn’t care for the others or the song itself at that point, he was attracted to the other like they were magnets, without even knowing his name. Those hair were like ink and his voice like thorns, nails into his skin.  
He didn’t hear something like that in ages or maybe never; he remained like that, mouth gaping and eyes wide, until he heard Glenn’s chuckle.   
The song was finished already and Sylvain didn’t realize until that point.

“Someone is shoked here, huh?” He chuckled again, tugging at Sylvain to drag him basically in the backstage.   
Oh no.   
“By the way the one you were staring at like you wanted him to eat you up is my brother. You’re welcome, I hope you like someone feral. Now come on, you want to talk with him right?”

Sylvain couldn’t really process anything Glenn was talking about, his mind remained still at the word ‘brother’.   
That was impossible.   
Glenn was the perfect cursed boy with the perfect life, a good job, a beautiful girlfriend… and that vision couldn’t be his fucking brother. He didn’t realize, tho, that he was pushed basically against said vision.  
“Sylvain, this is Felix, Felix this is Sylvain!”  
His eyes were even more deep up close, his hair way silkier and his voice more raspy and deep. He saw Felix grinned, hands on the hips.  
“Ehy.”  
Sylvain knew he was fucked well before he realized that they were alone.   
The next thing he felt were two piercings against his lips and tongue.


	31. 31. crossdressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In all his life Felix wouldn’t have thought of a situation like that for himself.

31\. crossdressing

Years of training, sleepless nights swinging swords, countless enemies cut down, for being here.  
On Sylvain’s bed.  
Dressed with a white frilly shirt, a corset, a puffy black skirt and white stockings; a maid outfit.  
In all his life Felix wouldn’t have thought of a situation like that for himself.

And yet, with Sylvain standing on the door with his mouth open wide, eyes larger than ever and white nuckles, he was here. With his hair down too and a slight tint of makeup on his lips, thanks for nothing Annette.  
“Stop staring.” He mumbled, trying to not read into Sylvain’s eyes and at the same time to hide his blush creeping from his neck to his ears.  
That was a very dumb idea, all to make Sylvain happy after a very rough battle. Like a prize of some sort, someone might say.  
But Sylvain didn’t hear a single word. His eyes were fixated on Felix, caressing those slender legs, his torso all laced up in that shirt and the corset -which made his waist even smaller than ever- and his hair, silk against cotton.  
That wasn’t real.  
It mustn’t be real.  
“…” 

The door slammed, making Felix almost jump. Maybe that was too much, maybe he got all wrong? He tried to say something but everything turned red, warm and wet on his mouth.  
Big hands on his waist and hips, tracing mindless patterns while chests were pressed together. Sylvain was out of his mind, Felix understood that when those damn hands were right under the skirt, hectic on the open skin and the lacy underwear; every moan Felix was making, every little noise, Sylvain made sure to eat of all them.

“You’re the death to me, Fe.”

Voice husky, deep and raw on his lips and the world started to spin all around. Felix was overwhelmed by the heat of Sylvain’s words and hands, occupied to lift the skirt inch by inch.  
Breath itched when he felt the lacy thing run over his legs and being tossed in a corner of the room; cold air slapped against his half hard erection with callouses finger, and hungry touch he wasn’t sure to be able to handle.

“In my bed, with these clothes… enemies couldn’t cut me down and now you’re killing me.”

Moans erupted when Sylvain lapped and bite into the meat of his neck, eyes went hazy and Felix didn’t even saw the latter strip himself from pants and whatever he had under them until he felt the hard brush of skin on skin.  
His hips went high, meeting Sylvain’s halfway, cocks brushing hard against each other under the ruffle of the skirt. That, alone, almost made Felix come in seconds.  
Not to mention the buttons of the shirt flying everywhere, his chest bared except for the corset.  
That damn corset.

“I want to make a mess of you Fe…”

Sylvain pushed harder one last time and made his way towards the nipples, making Felix whine when he felt hot lips and theet against the sensitive bud.  
Not for too long, since he decided to run his mouth toward south, under the skirt, hidden from Felix’s sight.

That was dangerous.

“Syl- _oh Goddess…!_” He almost cried, legs open so wide his muscles burn, but he didn’t care.  
Not when Sylvain’s hot mouth was eating him up, tongue all way in without a single warning.  
He just could see the slight bobbing of the other’s head under the fabric, so his sensations were exaggerated by the lack of vision. 

That was too much. Sylvain was fucking him with his tongue and that was too much to bear.  
Felix thighs almost smashed Sylvain’s head while he came, hips up in the air and the tongue still inside him. Waves of heat made him shiver to the core, the skirt stained forever probably and blood on his lips; vision went white and the world disappeared for some seconds.  
Felix regained senses just in time to see Sylvain lick his lips, cat like eyes and a wide grin, maybe mirrored by himself.

All those years for that moment, and Felix didn’t mind anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I finished! Oh my- I didn't think even for one second I could be able to finish this little monster. For me, being costant is a problem, and this puppy was difficult yet so fun...  
Thank you for all the kudos and hits, they mean the world to me and thank you for sticking with me and my little stories! Even just one single reader is so important!  
I wanna kiss on the forehead all of you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! This is my first time with such a big project: 31 stories for every day of October, following the initiative of this lovely page (https://www.facebook.com/fanwriter.it/, sorry it's only in italian!).  
I'm really hoping to do an okay job at this, I love Sylvain and Felix too much to not at least try. The stories will have all the ratings possible.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and hook me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/mitsukiakari) for very fine screams


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